


got my bad baby by my heavenly side

by conversewit



Series: summertime sadness [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Case Fic, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:55:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conversewit/pseuds/conversewit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alpha werewolf trumps homicidal lizard every time (Or five times Cora and Aiden were friends and one time they were more than friends)</p>
            </blockquote>





	got my bad baby by my heavenly side

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this as a palate cleanser to 1) practice writing in the present tense and 2) help me get unstuck from where I am in writing the next chapter of good timber. 
> 
> Title from Lana Del Ray's Summertime Sadness

5.

When Aiden arrived in Beacon Hills with his brother, and the rest of the Alpha pack in tow, he naively thought that his stay would be temporary. His old pack had rolled into a million towns just like this one all over country and every time they’d left as soon as their job was done. Now, months later, with Deucalion and the Darach in his rear view mirror, Aiden, had against all odds, settled into his fake identity as a high school student. 

Until the day Jackson Whittemore came back to town like the prodigal douchebag he was. Honestly, what did Lydia see in that over coiffed asshole anyway? Aiden was an alpha werewolf, and last time he checked alpha always trumped omega, even if the omega in question happened to drive a Porsche. 

But Jackson returning and being dumped by Lydia didn’t really explain how he ended up sitting on the bleachers, smoking Marlboro reds with Cora Hale of all people. Aiden didn’t know what was worse, being dumped or the fact that there was a universe in which Cora felt bad for him.

“I still don’t see it,” says Cora apropos of nothing. 

“See what?” Aiden replies crankily, taking one last drag before flicking his butt onto the field. 

“What’s so great about Lydia?” She says, reclining on the aluminum benches and closing her eyes. “Everyone here is obsessed with her. Is it something in the water?”

Aiden opens his mouth to retort but then thinks better of it. How could he explain what Lydia symbolizes to him, the idyllic human girlfriend that he was never able to have when he was actually in high school to Cora, who cares about nothing and no one save Derek and her psychotic uncle.

Looking over at Cora, who’s folded her arms and pulled the hood of sweatshirt to cover her eyes, “Yeah must be.”

4\. 

A side effect of Ethan dating Danny also meant that Aiden had to spend a lot of time with Beacon Hill’s best loved lacrosse player. Usually Aiden had no problem sitting at a lunch table with Ethan and his cheerful but otherwise boring boyfriend. But apparently Jackson and Danny were best friends which meant that Aiden would rather give Kali a pedicure than sit at his usual table. 

Some best friend Jackson was, taking off and ditching Lydia and Danny without so much as an email. 

“Is this going to be a thing?” Cora asks, not looking up from her soggy PB&J. 

“This is a free country, isn’t it?” Aiden answers, angrily biting into an apple, trying to focus his enhanced hearing on not listening to whatever conversation is happening at his usual lunch spot

“FMK: Jackson, Greenberg, or Finstock.” says Cora, interrupting Aiden’s fruitless attempt to block out the sound of Lydia’s laugh.

“What?” He looks across the table at her blankly.

Cora rolls her eyes, “It’s a game. Fuck, marry, kill: Jackson, Greenberg, or Finstock,” she repeats impatiently drumming her fingertips against the tabletop.

Blinking, Aiden surprises himself by actually considering Cora’s absurd proposition before answering, “Kill Jackson obviously, fuck Finstock, and marry Greenberg.”

“Ugh. Can’t believe you’d hypothetically consider boning Finstock,” Cora replies, forehead furrowing in disgust. 

Aiden snorts, “It was the best choice out of only horrible choices.”

They pass the rest of their lunch period trying to one up each other with increasingly gross combinations. 

3\. 

A condition of remaining in Beacon Hills was that Scott “True Alpha” McCall was in charge. If anyone else was bothered by the fact that they had to take marching orders from someone with permanent puppy dog eyes, they kept silent.

Before putting down roots here, Aiden had attended pack meetings in dingy warehouses, creepy forests, and even an actual conference room once. Never before had Melissa McCall’s leftover lasagna been an integral part of any pack gathering Aiden had attended in the last 5 years. 

“Deaton warned us this would happen if we reactivated the nemeton,” Stiles says, looking uncharacteristically serious as he passes out photocopies. 

“Dad says what we’re looking for is probably a vetala.” Alison says, as she walks into the living room and sits in between Scott and Isaac on the sofa.

“Vetalas usually kidnap their victims and feed off of them for days. And they can only be killed with a silver knife to the heart,” Lydia cuts in, surveying the map laid out on the coffee table intently.

Cora covers a cough with her elbow, which sounds suspiciously like “know it all.”

Aiden frowns, “How many victims so far?”

“Two. One was a jogger, reported missing by his girlfriend on Thursday. On Saturday the body turns up, completely drained of blood,” Stiles replies, rubbing his forehead.

“And the second?” Cora asks.

Scott starts to reply, “We don’t know for sure that the second victim is actually missing because of the vetala--” 

“The second victim is a park ranger, it’s not out of the ordinary for park rangers to go days without checking in. According to Ranger Rick’s supervisor, who reported him missing, this guy calls in every 3 days like clockwork. Today is Day 6 and Rick still hasn’t called in.” Stiles interrupts, frowning at the pages of the police report in his lap.

“This is Beacon Hills. What are the odds that this is a coincidence?” Cora asks, not looking super optimistic.

“Not to jinx everything but for once this actually seems kind of straightforward. Find monster and then kill monster with easily available weapon. No creepy rituals necessary,” Isaac says. 

“Rituals? What the hell has been going on in this town?” Jackson interjects.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Aiden mutters under his breath, not able to help himself. He doesn’t have to look over his shoulder to know that Ethan has just rolled his eyes. 

“So our best bet is probably to send out the wolves on a reconnaissance mission. Once we’ve found where the vetala is keeping its victims then we can go in guns blazing,” Stiles decides.

2\. 

For some reason, instead of being paired with Ethan, Aiden finds himself riding shotgun around Beacon Hill’s extensive warehouse district in Derek Hale’s Toyota. He and Cora both using their super senses to scent or hear anything off. 

Sighing loudly, Cora leans her head against the steering wheel. “This is pointless.”

Aiden can’t help but agree. Like everything else sinister that’s happened it seems more likely that the vetala is hiding somewhere in preserve rather than holing up in a warehouse. 

“How come your brother isn’t part of this crack team?” Aiden asks. He hasn’t had much contact with Derek since he and Cora surprised everyone by actually returning to their hometown.

“He and Peter are in the Preserve guarding the nemeton.” Cora replies, putting the car in park.

“I thought only emissaries could use that thing.”

“Better safe than sorry I guess.”

A couple of minutes pass, Aiden is about to suggest that they cut their losses and get something to eat when Cora freezes.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Before Aiden is even finished asking the question Cora is unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car. “What are you doing?” he hisses as he follows her down a dark alley. 

“How can you not smell that?” Cora mutters in aggravation. And that’s the last thing Aiden remembers when he wakes up on a metal table in the vet clinic. The back of his neck is throbbing and his mouth tastes like the boys’ locker room smells. 

Realizing where he is, he sits up suddenly and then almost falls off the table when he’s hit by a wave of dizziness.

“Take it easy,” Ethan is at his elbow, draining the pain from his pounding head and neck.

“Stop that, where is she? Where’s Cora?” Aiden asks, batting Ethan’s black veined wrist away. 

Ethan’s lack of reply tells him everything he needs to know. 

Aiden skips classes for the next two days and spends his time breaking into every abandoned warehouse, barn, and factory, in vain attempt to find Cora. For a fucking podunk town in the middle of Northern California, Beacon Hills has a disproportionate amount of abandoned buildings. 

Ranger Rick or Larry Wilmore, as he was known to friends and family, turns up facedown in a drainage ditch, drained dry of blood.

1.

Finally, after days of searching Aiden finds the vetala’s hideout. Cora is delirious and strung up from the ceiling in the back office of what seems to be an old water treatment facility. The entire place reeks of industrial strength chemicals, which explains why none of the werewolves were able to find the vetala’s hideout by scent.

Cora moans, her mouth trying to form words as Aiden dedicates himself to trying to unchain her. 

“Stop trying to talk you idiot, whatever it is you can tell me later,” a quick look at the burns on Cora’s wrists tell him that the chains have likely been soaked in wolfsbane. Knowing that clawing his own eyeballs out in frustration would serve no good, Aiden looks up. The chain is wrapped around a pipe that bisects the ceiling. Pushing over a desk he can stand on top of, Aiden liberates the pipe from the ceiling and slowly lowers Cora and the chain to ground.

“You’re freezing,” Aiden starts to take off his jacket to drape over Cora, when she grasps his collar with clawed fingers. 

“No...stop....run,” she says hoarsely, Aiden huffs in irritation and brushes sweaty brown hair off Cora’s forehead. 

“And leave you here to die? Who would I bum cigarettes off of?”

Aiden finally understands what Cora was trying to tell him when the dim overhead lights flicker out followed by the ominous sound of a door slamming shut. Trying not to roll his eyes, Aiden gently lays Cora down before standing up and roaring so loud that the entire building shakes. If Ethan were here, he’d be accused of being dramatic. But Cora is getting paler and weaker by the minute and she can’t afford to sit through a villainous monologue. 

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” he calls, inwardly wincing at how creepy he sounds, as he moves throughout the complex. 

Over the sound of dripping water Aiden is finally able to pin down a heartbeat, unnaturally fast but unmistakably the vetala’s, Aiden smiles viciously as he lets his fangs drop. 

“Gotcha.” 

By the time Derek and Scott finally arrive, with Isaac and Allison hot on their heels, Aiden has refocused his efforts of keeping Cora’s body temperature up. 

“Um...what happened here?” asks Scott, taking in the bloody lump in the corner that used to be a vetala. 

Ignoring Scott, “She’s not getting better. You brought your car right?” Aiden asks, looking at Derek.

Derek, to his credit, doesn’t ask stupid questions and only raises his eyebrows, “Yeah. It’s out back. I’ll call Deaton on the way.”

As Aiden follows Derek onto the street, he hears Isaac ask Allison, “But how did he kill it?”

“He ripped its heart out,” Allison replies, in a tone that’s equal parts shock and admiration. 

\+ 1

Derek wakes up to sound of Cora’s voice, tired but amused. Rubbing a hand over his stubble, he looks over at Stiles, collapsed in the seat across from his. 

“You didn’t have to stay all night,” Derek says, looking over at Stiles, whose slumped in what looks like the most uncomfortable chair in the world. After one of the weirdest car rides of his life, Derek, Aiden, and an unconscious Cora arrived at the vet clinic, where Stiles, Lydia and Deaton were waiting. Fortunately, while the vetala’s poison was strong enough to sedate a werewolf, it wasn’t toxic. All his sister ended up needing was blood, readily obtained from Derek himself and Peter, and rest which she was doing in the same room where Deaton sterilized cats and dogs. 

“What time is it?” Stiles asks blearily, running a hand through his hair and sitting up.

Derek squints at the time on his phone before giving up, “Just after sunrise.”

“Is anybody else still here?” 

“Scott took Allison and Isaac home a couple hours ago.”

“So it’s just us?”

Derek frowns, trying to focus what Cora is saying to Aiden. 

“What is it?”

“She’s apologizing to Aiden because she’d rather fuck Jackson, kill Finstock, and marry Greenberg,” Derek repeats, brow furrowing in confusion. 

Stiles doesn’t need Derek to relay Aiden’s response, the sound of his laughter finds its way to the cramped waiting room, so loud that Stiles’ human ears have no trouble hearing it. Derek makes the executive decision not narrate what happens next, it’s hard enough trying to block out of the sounds of his sister making out with Aiden as it is.

**Author's Note:**

> shameless stealing of the vetala and its powers/weaknesses from Supernatural


End file.
